Zipped Up
by Miss Snazzy
Summary: Bella has always been invisible to Edward, but will a shared secret change that? B/E. AH. OOC.   "It almost hurt to do this. To sit and laugh and pretend to be part of this group, when really, it all just felt wrong."
1. Beginning & End

**Disclaimer: Twilight and all its characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. I'm just subjecting them to my mental depravity.**

**Warning:**** This story deals with a particular fetish that you might not be comfortable with. If this is the case, feel free to read something else. I won't mind.**

**In regards to the fetish, I am in no way advocating its practice, or condemning the people who participate. I know there are a lot of misconceptions about these people and I don't mean to offend.**

**Allons-y...**

Zipped Up

Bella stared at her creation, wondering if she had gone mad.

If anyone knew what she was about to do and where she was about to go, they'd…well…she didn't know what they'd do. Would they just laugh their asses off or avoid her like a horrible plague? Either way, she knew she'd never hear the end of it.

Small towns weren't known for their steady tongues and she knew it would only be a matter of time before _everyone_ knew. There'd be no hope of them ever forgetting either. They were basically a bunch of elephants. Elephants crossed with parrots.

She smirked at that, enjoying the inside joke that only she would understand the humor in.

Maybe she had gone crazy, but she knew she wanted to do this. So she admired it for only a moment longer before slipping it into a garment bag. It was time.

…

Edward shoved the bag in his trunk, eyes darting around, always paranoid.

He knew it wasn't right. It couldn't be right if he had to hide it like this. Yet, he couldn't seem to stop.

He hated himself for it.

The addiction was bleeding his bank account and he was telling so many lies these days that he knew it was only a matter of time before it all blew up in his face. With these thoughts in mind, he decided that maybe it was time to break the habit.

Tonight would be the last time he did this.

…

**I've been sitting on this for awhile.  
I finally gave into temptation.**


	2. Weak & Strong

**Disclaimer: Twilight and all its characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. I'm just subjecting them to my mental depravity.**

**Warning:**** This story deals with a particular fetish that you might not be comfortable with. If this is the case, feel free to read something else. I won't mind.**

**In regards to the fetish, I am in no way advocating its practice, or condemning the people who participate. I know there are a lot of misconceptions about these people and I don't mean to offend.**

**Allons-y...**

Zipped Up

Bella walked past the receptionist, cringing when she noticed the woman glance at her garment bag and smirk.

"There's a bathroom on the same floor," she called to her.

Bella paused, but couldn't bring herself to look at her.

"Thank you," she mumbled instead, loud enough for the woman to have heard her before entering the elevator.

The panic she had been trying to quell down since she first decided to do this, spilled out as she repeatedly jabbed her finger against the button that would close the elevator doors. She breathed a sigh of relief once they did and pressed the one that would take her to the floor _they_ had specified.

When she stepped out of the elevator, she sought out the bathroom before quickly heading toward it. She moved into one of the stalls, glad that no one had been in there when she first entered. Apart from the receptionist, no one else would know. She only hoped that the woman wouldn't say anything.

Bella opened the garment bag and once again, stared at her creation. This was it. The moment she had been waiting for. She slipped into her creation, glad to have had the foresight to put the zipper on the side. There wouldn't be anyone to zip it up the back for her. Taking a deep breath, she pulled the rest of it onto her head and once it was strapped in, she exhaled.

Her breath filled the space between her face and the material, the heat giving her a rare sense of relief.

Slowly, she stepped out of the stall and came face to face with her reflection. It was a strange thing to see her inside reflected on her outside. In here, she wasn't Bella Swan.

She was _more_.

…

Edward stepped over the threshold with the confidence of someone who had done this numerous times before. He nodded at Lee who handed him his name tag with a big slimy smile—the same smile he always wore.

"It's good to see you again!" Lee hissed at him.

Edward stuck the name tag on his chest, deciding not to respond. Unlike many others, he did not come here to socialize. In fact, he'd rather not have to see any of these…people. The only reason he did show up every month was because he needed somewhere to just _be_.

He couldn't do it at his house—not with that nosy family of his. Going to his friends was _completely _out of the question. Aside from braving it in the forest or something—_ha_—this was really his only option. So he came here every month, granting himself a couple hours of peace before he'd have to go back to pretending.

…

Bella stepped over the threshold with the anxiety of someone who had never done anything like this before. When she imagined this night, she saw paper mache trees and streamers strung about to take the place of vines—something natural like the jungle. She was surprised to be in a normal room with its white walls and beige couches pressed up against them. She might've thought she was in the wrong place if someone hadn't been there to greet her.

"Welcome!" an excited male voice hissed at her from behind what seemed to be a green mask made of cardboard.

There were large triangular pieces of cardboard glued down his back and all the way to the tip of his tail. He wore a green unitard with cardboard talons on his hands and feet which were bare. On his head was the cardboard mask with holes for his eyes and a large smile drawn on with what was probably sharpie.

"Never seen you here before. Newcomer then? My name's Lee. What's yours?" he hissed at her, extending one of his taloned-hands.

Bella hesitated, not really wanting to reveal her identity.

Sensing her problem, he rushed in to explain. "Most of us have names for the characters we play when we're here. People know me as Lee the Lizard."

Bella considered this for a moment, smiling when she came up with the perfect alias.

"Mary," she offered her material clad hand.

They shook hands—it was kind of awkward with the cardboard talons—and he handed her a nametag. She stuck the sticker on her chest, frowning at how human this was. Animals didn't wear nametags, so why should she?

"There's punch and snacks if you get hungry—both in the human and animal variety—and feel free to come to me if you have any questions," he hissed before turning to address someone behind her.

Trying not to feel dismissed, she walked further into the room, admiring the other guests. There were lions and tigers and bears—_oh my_—and even a porcupine. The range of craftsmanship seemed to be very broad with some that looked barely held together with duct tape, and others that were so good she thought they must've been professionally made. The latter had her feeling self-conscious, overshadowing her feelings of pride earlier.

Her gaze lingered on the lion for a moment, taking in the way his posture seemed to radiate predator. Unlike the other guests, he was standing off to the side, away from everyone else and appearing closed off. He almost seemed to be overseeing the event, much as a lion would watch over his jungle kingdom.

She felt smaller in that moment and a little unnerved when he turned toward her as if he had sensed her gaze. Quickly averting her eyes, she moved to join the crowd.

…

Edward watched her avert her gaze and join the rest of the guests with idle interest. Although he rarely felt the need to converse with anyone, his lack of socialization had not stopped them from approaching him. He knew most by name and the rest he could easily recognize by costume.

Not her though. She was new…in more ways than one. She seemed unsure of herself as most newcomers are, but there was also the costume she had chosen that set her apart from all the rest. Most people—like him—based their look on power and strength, but she had neither of those things.

In fact, she was the exact opposite of that, appearing feeble and weak, especially in the manner that she carried herself. It was no wonder she had looked away when he challenged her stare.

He found his eyes flitting to her of their own will most of the night and from the tenseness of her shoulders, he knew she could feel it too. When she would shift slightly one way, he would compensate for the movement. There was a thrill within him at the subtle chase—a lion's dance with his prey.

…

To say she had met a few interesting characters that night would be an understatement. There was the bear who would speak of his fishing and hibernation in such a serious tone that she found it difficult to hold in her laughter, the porcupine who found the need to warn everyone about his poisonous needles every few minutes and the creepy dog who had insisted that he needed to say hello the _proper_ way.

Of course, they weren't all ridiculous. Some just genuinely seemed to adore the animal they were portraying and didn't feel the need to be so obvious about what they were.

And then there was the lion.

The uneasiness she had felt upon making eye contact with him at the beginning of the night hadn't gone away like she had hoped. Regardless of whom she talked to or where she went, his gaze seemed to follow her.

Climbing the tree with ease, she opened her window and deposited her garment bag safely on a nearby desk and slid into her room. She was careful not to make too much noise, knowing how Charlie would react if he caught her sneaking in this late.

After quickly hiding her secret deep in the closet, she changed into her pajamas and climbed into bed. The event had lasted longer than she expected and although she hadn't minded the extra time, she knew she needed to go to sleep soon if she didn't want to be completely useless at school tomorrow.

Sighing, she rubbed her neck, imagining that she could still feel his haunting gaze pressed upon her back.

…

**There we have it.  
The fetish:**

**Furries.**


	3. Dancing & Pretending

**Disclaimer: Twilight and all its characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. I'm just subjecting them to my mental depravity.**

**Warning:**** This story deals with a particular fetish that you might not be comfortable with. If this is the case, feel free to read something else. I won't mind.**

**In regards to the fetish, I am in no way advocating its practice, or condemning the people who participate. I know there are a lot of misconceptions about these people and I don't mean to offend.**

**Allons-y...**

Zipped Up

The unease she felt last night returned as she took her assigned seat, but for an entirely different reason. Although she didn't have any friends to worry about questioning her odd behavior, she couldn't help feeling like everyone was watching her, somehow knowing what she had done, and were just waiting for the right moment to spring.

The feeling didn't go away, even as her peers continued to ignore her existence.

When most students are asked the question—what is your favorite class—most of them will more often than not, jokingly answer—lunch. This however, was not the case for Bella Swan. For her, lunch was a time where social outcasts were forced to show themselves by standing awkwardly while searching for somewhere to sit.

Lunch was always a depressing time because it was here that her lack of friends became glaringly obvious. She would walk passed all the chattering tables and smiles, and take a seat at the only table that was ever open. One of the table's legs was broken, resulting in a pronounced tilt that would cause most things to tip and slide.

She held her tray in her lap, unable to stop herself from glancing quickly around at all that she was missing and the feeling of acceptance she wish she had. She took a deep breath and stuck her hand in her bag, relieved when she felt the soft material of her best friend, reassuring her that she would make it through the day.

…

It almost hurt to do this. To sit and laugh and pretend to be a part of this group, when really, it all just felt _wrong_. The smiles he flashed at everyone were empty and the things he said were pointless. There were expectations he was meant to meet and the people around him almost seemed to be clinging more than anything else.

They surrounded him, suffocated him, were dazzled by him—no, by the mask he wore. What he wore on _those_ nights—that was the real him. Edward was just the persona he had to play.

And he hated it. Oh God, how he hated it.

…

When you're assigned a lab partner, it's typically difficult on both parties. Not only are you forced to work with someone who you probably wouldn't have picked, but you also have the worry of your partner flaking and forcing you to earn the grade alone.

However, this was not true of Bella and Edward.

No, Edward was actually too high and mighty to work alongside Bella and continuously did his work alone, leaving Bella to also fend for herself. Now although she could hold her own in Biology, there were some things you couldn't do without your partner, like labs that required more than two hands, or _partner-oriented _activities, in which he would either make up answers for her side or ask someone nearby to use theirs.

He treated her as if she was invisible and that hurt more than she would care to admit.

Her hand slipped into her bag for the second time of the day, clutching sadly at the small bundle as Edward ignored her once again.

…

The Volvo pealed out of the parking lot and Edward tried to use speed to quiet the hum of voices that filled his car. His usual group of friends had somehow invited themselves over, as they were prone to do. With Alice's incessant pestering, it had become easier to just comply.

They tossed their backpacks by the door and Edward followed as they descended into the basement, otherwise known as their game room. After playing pool for a couple hours, Edward was at a point where he could take no more.

"Mind giving them a ride home?" Edward asked Alice, who rolled her eyes and nodded. She was used to his need to bail.

"Leavin' already, Man?" Emmett asked.

"Got some shit to do. You know me," he smirked.

"Yeah I do," Emmett laughed.

Edward clenched his fists, restraining the urge to it hit him for being so damn clueless.

…

While everyone around her rushed out as the bell began to blare out their dismissal, Bella moved much slower. Although she hated every moment she spent on campus, she had acquired a sense of patience that came from being treated poorly by her peers.

Even her teacher seemed not to notice her as she bustled out of the classroom. Bella followed the stampede a few feet behind, rubbing her shoulder where the door had swung into her. Keeping her gaze pointed steadily to the ground and her arms wrapped around her books, she made her way to her truck.

The rain had been pouring steadily for hours and misjudging the depth of a puddle, she had stomped through one of the potholes. She barely managed to stay upright as the little pool soaked through her pant leg and water splashed into her books when they fell from her arms.

"Nice!" Irina snickered as she hopped by, effectively splashing more water onto her now damaged books.

Bella froze as Edward approached and watched him step over her stuff without once glancing her way. Her gaze remained fixed on him until he had slipped into his car with his friends and driven away.

Taking a deep breath, she gathered up her stuff and silently willed herself not to cry.

…

He pulled into the hotel parking lot, once again realizing how utterly pathetic his life had become.

There wouldn't be another meeting until next month and even as he vehemently denied that he would be attending, the date was stuck in his head, circled several times with bright red ink.

...

She flinched as the door slammed shut, having intended on merely slipping in to remain unnoticed.

"Bella? Is that you?" Charlie called from the kitchen.

She sighed, resolved to perform the part she always played in this dance.

"Yeah, Dad. It's me," she called back.

Charlie emerged, his inquisitive stare quickly landing on her.

"So how was it?"

"Fine. Mike told this really funny joke," she laughed lightly. "I guess you'd have to be there," she offered apologetically.

"I hope it wasn't anything to inappropriate," he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"_Dad_."

"What?" he asked defensively. "I've got to make sure my daughter isn't being exposed to anything..." he trailed off for a moment before weakly adding, "inappropriate."

She rolled her eyes before abruptly widening them in excitement.

"Oh! Jessica might be having a sleepover too."

"That sounds like fun."

"Mhm. She just has to make sure it's okay with her mom. She said she'd let us know."

"No boys will be attending, I hope?" He made it sound like a question, but they both knew it was more of an affirmation.

"_Dad_," she said again, exasperated.

Charlie chuckled lightly before sobering up a bit.

"I'm glad to see you're making friends here," he smiled, evidently proud that she was assimilating well.

"Me too," Bella smiled back.

When she finally made it to her room, she didn't waste a moment in removing her little stuffed lamb. Hugging the somewhat coarse keepsake to her chest, she curled up on her bed and allowed her tears to silently fall.

Another dance, executed flawlessly.

...

**This was a peek into their "normal" lives.  
There will be more of Mary in the next chapter.**


End file.
